I Hear What You’re Saying
Those of you that know me know that I talk to animals. I’d like to say that they talk back to me, but they don’t have to. I have the natural ability to read their thoughts and can put those thoughts into words. This makes the conversations one-sided because I control the whole conversation between us. Usually, my side of the conversation is the only part that the outside world hears, should anyone be listening.
I’m not sure when this ability started. My child started talking to imaginary squirrel friends, Jake and Mike, when they were about four. Parent Magazine even interviewed them for an article on Imaginary playmates.
But as for me, my first recollection of conversations with animals (not imaginary), which, as it would happen, was also a squirrel, began in junior high school. Because of where the school was located, I walked to school. My travels passed through a local park, which had squirrels in attendance.
If you’re going to talk to a squirrel, you have to give it a name. My squirrel was called Rod, possibly after a New York Ranger ice hockey player Rod Gilbert.
Rod and I passed time on my way to school and coming home. It was a fleeting conversation, as he wasn’t too fond of being seen conversing with a human in public. For the three years I went to Junior High School, we greeted each other and spoke about how our day was going each time we met.
I never told anyone about my interactions with Rod. As a pre-teen and teenager, I was savvy enough to know that others would not understand that a grown boy could interact with animals on a talking level.
I didn’t fess up about this relationship until one of my writing groups earlier this year.
I still personify most animals I come into contact with. I’m more overt about this now as a 72-year-old. One of the perks of old age is that you can do all sorts of things that others younger than you would be embarrassed about, especially when they’re with you. But at 72, I can play the old fart card and say. What? I’m 72 years old, I can do whatever the hell I want. Let them look at you and nod their heads and let me be.
At least, that’s what the local squirrels around here tell me.
